Collided By Poetic Design
by reddish-ninja
Summary: Marinette headed back to her desk after the meeting and noticed a small note on her keyboard. A poem? Written to her? But from who? Adrien fell into his chair with a tired sigh - and spied a folded piece of paper on his desk. It was a poem. A secret admirer? Just in time for the company Masquerade Ball?
1. Bankruptcy?

**Happy Holidays, everyone! I've got a new holiday treat for ya! This is dedicated to my good friend Kikisuteru on Ao3 - but I decided to post it here as well.**

 **This will be a daily update thing all the way until the 25th! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Marinette sat quietly at the back of the room, a piece of her raven fringe falling into her worried sapphire eyes. Glancing over the accounting packet, a pad of paper balanced on her lap and sat ready to document the minutes of the meeting. She glanced up to the handsome man standing awkwardly at the projector, his green eyes steady, but his tan hands nervously trembling at his side.

Dressed in a black-pressed suit, dark red tie, and thick leather shoes, he looked uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His blond hair, slicked down to his scalp with jell, was starting to fight the obvious attempts to tame it as a small sweeping lock slipped rebelliously to his forehead.

She bit her bottom lip as the silence grew tighter. Sitting at the right side of the conference desk, her boss, Luka Couffaine, had his grim face on; those ice eyes gazing from one red number to the next. He was a straight-laced man, young and cut-throat. One of the many reasons he'd gain so much momentum within the company.

His stern face was spilling with hard doubt.

"From these statistics, it looks as though the South Branch has become our only source of revenue this past quarter," Luka said softly.

"Yes, sir." The young man nodded briskly and reached down to the side table to click a slide on his computer. The projector displayed a broken bar graph. "You can see my forecast on the line here." He tapped his finger to the arrow pointing down. "This graph predicts three revenue quarters from now. The heavy spending of-" he faltered as all seven executives seated around the conference room straightened their backs with intimidation, "-…the-the corporate offices has created a deep impact on the company's budget."

"You're basically saying that the South Branch is going to support our entire company with a year and a half?" The rotund CEO barked from his thick, comfortable seat. The female assistant at his back jumped in her chair in fear.

"If I refer to the previous graph, it _is_ currently supporting the company, sir," he corrected.

Fear had laced into her stomach, but Marinette had to hand it to him.

This accountant guy had guts.

"What of the North Branch?" Luka asked quietly.

The accountant frowned. "North Branch? You didn't… know?"

"We closed down the North Branch four months ago, Luka," the Human Resources Executive piped in with a red fingernail touching her chin thoughtfully.

The CEO's frown grew more pronounced on his forehead. "There you have it. We _have_ downsized. The numbers should be better! What has caused this to happen?"

The young man clicked on his computer screen again and the bar chart changed into a pie chart. Marinette's eyes went wide.

"Corporate expenditure. Trips to the tropics, meetings held at the capital, garden parties for executive birthdays, high salaries." He pointed at each cut, and the room grew heavier with hostility.

"Nonsense!" The CEO roared. "Utter nonsense!"

"The forecast is right there in front of you. The South Branch can only do so much to compensate these charges," he countered. "With minimum wage on the rise, this has cut even further into the budget. Our higher-ended invoices are growing steadily harder to pay. Our debt is only mounting. I fear it will become critical before the year is out."

"How did you not catch this before, Monsieur Raincomprix?" Luka turned to the Finance Controller at the far left of the table. The nervous man twitched in his chair, opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

The CEO snarled. "Yes, how did this projected outcome slip through our sights? Even with the Northern Branch closure!? This should have been announced in our quarter close!"

"He gave me permission to handle this meeting, sir," the accountant spoke up with a nod to his boss. Raincomprix sighed quietly with relief. "I'm sure our CFO would have loved to step in, but he is on vacation at this current moment." He seem to let that comment sink in for a bit before continuing, "Our sales, both online and in-store, cannot compensate. We need to cutback and soon or we will be declaring bankruptcy."

Marinette's mouth fell open slightly and spikes of fear swirled inside.

Bankruptcy…

* * *

The eleventh floor was almost tacky with all the luxurious decorations. Having grown up in a large house as a child, Adrien's expert gaze had flicked over the expensive heavy curtains, lovely Turkish rugs, and the large brick fireplace at the back of the room and was followed with a low sigh.

 _Corporate expenditure at its finest_.

His office downstairs was a small space that barely had enough room for the three people who worked there. There were no windows for drapery, no squashy couches except for the broken love-seat in the corner of the room, and they had to go to the sixth floor to use the restroom.

As all the Executives filed out of the glass doors of the conference room, Adrien shut the laptop with a soft click and sighed slowly. He had done his best. He'd given the warning. It was up to them to take his advice - not that he expected them to.

As he grabbed his briefcase, he felt the passing glare of eyes. He kept his gaze low, his fingers methodically pinning the laptop to the inside of the case. Finally, he glanced up and started in surprise.

The woman with those bright blue eyes stood silently beside her chair in the back. She regarded him with a look and Adrien was pleasantly surprised to find there wasn't a trace of hostility in her gaze. As she fiddled with her pad of paper and pen, she actually looked scared. Straightening his packet in her fingers, she gave him a nod and a small smile curled on her pink lips.

She filed out behind her boss, her lovely eyes drifting to the floor and breaking eye contact.

Adrien blinked and shut his briefcase with a small blush.

He'd been _staring_ at her… how embarrassing…


	2. A Poem?

"That bastard!" Kim cursed over the espresso machine. He over-poured the water in the mug and growled as the liquid sloshed to the carpet. "How could he just spring something like that up to the execs? Don't you guys know what cutbacks mean?"

The small group fell silent.

They all knew what it meant.

Marinette grimaced as Kim dropped the ruined cup onto the sink and faced them, fuming.

"We're getting fired! And it could be any day now! You heard them talking about the North Branch as if they were a waste of money! What are we compared to an entire sector? We are just analysts and admins! We have nothing to protect us from getting canned!"

"It doesn't necessarily mean that," Alya spoke up - always the voice of reason. "Executives can't operate without us. We hold value to the company."

"Yeah, right," Kim snorted. "You think they're going to cut back on corporate spending? I just saw on the calendar that HR has plans for a Hawaii trip! And first-class flights naturally!"

Alya sighed, her ombre hair falling over her shoulder. "It had to be pointed out to them somehow. We could all be out of a job if that accountant hadn't done the presentation."

"He could have told the CFO first before-"

The door to the rec room opened, cutting off all conversation. Marinette glanced from Kim's scowl to spy soft green eyes. The handsome accountant, his expression impassive, walked in as if entering a silent courtroom and moved to the coffee stand behind her. They all stared as he grabbed a short paper cup and poured hot water into it. Grabbing a tea bag, he headed swiftly to the exit.

"Hey, you!" Kim called rudely and the accountant stopped with his hand on the door handle. Without turning his head, he waited.

"If the numbers were that bad, you should have done that presentation a long time ago! You call yourself an accountant?"

Marinette quietly tapped her fingernail on the ceramic mug in her hands and the temptation to step in crept up. The man was simply doing his job. A shiver of shame burned her stomach as she stayed quiet - her own curiosity getting the better of her.

"These projections were presented multiple times to the Controller and CFO throughout last year," the man answered clearly, still not turning to look at their group. "They had ample amount of opportunities to present it themselves. But, as you can see, no one wants to be the bearer of bad news." He snorted to himself with dark laughter. "Since I did the investigation, it was up to me."

Kim paused, but the frown never left his face. "So the CFO knew, but made you present it."

"I volunteered actually," the accountant said softly. "I found out the numbers and they hated the results. If I get the heat then at least I know the presentation showed correct numbers. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Kim growled, taking a step forward. "I'm not-"

"Thank you for the presentation!" Marinette called out, surprising everyone - including herself.

She felt her cheeks grow hot as the young man turned to glance at her with a blink of wonder. A weird spark ignited between them. The accountant's face slowly grew less dark, his pink lips curving upward. His broad shoulders straightened and he nodded to her silently.

As the door closed behind him, Marinette saw Alya's studious gaze slipped over her face. Before her friend could read anything into – whatever that was – Marinette pivoted on foot, set her mug in the sink, and headed out the door.

The morning held a sense of dread, like an executioner's axe waiting to fall, as Marinette plopped into her swivel seat and pulled up her emails. Shifting through the numerous messages and inquiries over calendar scheduling, her eyes slid from the screen to stare at her keyboard in disbelief.

Fired. Could it really be possible? Kim was probably still in the rec room shouting about it.

She had started this job two years ago. Not much tenure, but enough to prove herself as a solid partner for Monsieur Couffaine. She knew how he liked his coffee, what type of flowers his mother preferred, even what kind of gas his Benz ran on. Glancing up from her cubicle, she saw him staring out the window to the downtown traffic below, his hands folded gently behind his back.

Resting her elbow on her desk, she nudged a piece of folded paper that she hadn't seen before lying on her desk. Eyes slipping with curiosity, she reached for it and unfolded it carefully.

It was a typed poem?

" _Professional to end  
Keeping vigilant  
It is done, so I bend  
Yet blue eyes  
Births anticipation  
_  
" _Caught in a stare  
But can't compare  
My gratefulness  
For your defense"_

"What in the-" She turned the note over and saw nothing else. No name? Nothing. Just a simple font on printed paper.

Blue eyes slipping back to her boss wonderingly, she put the note in her drawer and frowned.

Who in the world would write her a poem?


	3. New Roommate

"There he is! How'd it go this morning, dude?"

The kind face of Nino rose to smile from over his computer's screen. Plopping down on the paper riddled, pinstriped couch with a dejected sigh, Adrien couldn't bring himself to go to his computer just yet.

As his friend studied his gloomy expression, he whistled. "That bad, bro?"

"I should have taken today off," Adrien groaned as he leaned against the backrest of the couch and rubbed his tired eyes. "They tore into me upstairs, Nino. The CFO didn't even warn them bankruptcy was a possibility."

"Didn't we kind of expect that would be the reaction?"

Adrien let out a bitter laugh. "Good point. Guess I foolishly overestimate that he would do his job. Silly me."

"Yeah, jokes on you for that, dude."

"You should have had that tea I recommended." A female's bossy voice broke over him and Adrien lowered his hands to see his longtime friend, Chloe Bourgeois, standing over him with her hands on her hips. Her thick blonde hair in an unusual messy ponytail, her yellow blouse and black pants were a bit wrinkled – suggesting that she might have spent the night in the office again.

"You're one to talk," Adrien commented, ducking away before Chloe's swiping hand could smack him on the shoulder. "Hey, now! No need for violence!"

"Smart-ass! You should take better care of yourself. You work too hard!"

"You look like you woke up on the floor again."

"I was just taking care of some late invoices." Chloe turned away defensively. "You had to deal with those execs."

Nino snorted a laugh. "Late invoices, huh? With what money?"

"I thought I told you to not stay in the office late anymore," Adrien scolded her with a frown. "You told me you wouldn't-"

"Adrien, I'm not a child!" Chloe huffed childishly, crossing her arms with a scowl. "Besides… I… I couldn't go home."

Adrien sat up immediately, worry clenching his stomach. "What do you mean, Chlo?"

When she didn't reply, Adrien stood and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. "What are you talking about? He didn't-"

"Yeah, he did! Ali kicked me out! Are you happy now? You hated him anyway, so you should be so thrilled!"

"When?" It was the only word Adrien could find himself saying.

"Two days ago…" She still couldn't look him in the eye. Seeing tears beginning to well up, he let her go and turned his back to her. One thing Adrien had learned a long time ago, Chloe Bourgeois hated more than anything for someone to see her cry.

"You should have told me," he murmured darkly.

"And distract you from your presentation to the big wigs? I couldn't do that."

"Where are your bags?"

"I-In my car in the parking garage."

"You're staying with me then. Nino, could you-"

Adrien didn't need to say anything further. His best friend had already stood from his desk. Hurrying, Nino grabbed Chloe's purse for her keys and was out the side door to the elevator. As Adrien went to follow him, he felt a small hand grab his arm.

"It won't be for long… I promise…" Her light eyes rimmed red and her throat caught on almost every word. Adrien eased a hand on her shoulder.

"You are practically my family, Chloe, and family takes care of family. Stay as long as you want."

It was an hour later, all of Chloe's belongings were tucked into Adrien's small sedan. Nino and Adrien trudged back into the office panting and loosening their ties. Glancing at Chloe's head – which was bent behind her computer – Adrien finally plopped down on his seat and booted up his computer – only to see a small folded note resting on his computer keyboard.

With a tight frown, he glanced at his two co-workers before unfolding the paper:

" _Stomach held in tightly  
Finger shakes at side  
To them, a simple tide  
To him, Tsunami mighty_

" _Take heart-  
_ _Hardships miraculously  
Prepare the ordinary  
For the extraordinary"  
_  
Looking back up, he was tempted to call on Chloe for the meaning of this. It had to be a weird joke or something. An encouraging thought from her.

Though her temperament had improved quite a bit since their childhood days, Chloe wasn't that thoughtful. Also, she was a terrible poet.

He held the note, the simple printed words on white paper –

And shrugged before putting it in his desk drawer.


End file.
